


Brucia la Terra

by AliceMarylin1999



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Friends With Benefits, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMarylin1999/pseuds/AliceMarylin1999
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are in Sicily at the beginning of XIX century, having an affair. Crowley is frank about being in love, Aziraphale still denies it. One hot summer night Crowley serenades his angel with a beautiful Sicilian song.





	Brucia la Terra

1802

As the sun was setting over the Sicilian village, Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves sitting comfortably under the orange tree near the ruins of an abandoned church.

"The village is as good as dead. Everyone is gone to the wedding... I liked the wedding, I have to admit. And the couple, Crowley. I hope they will be happy", Aziraphale said dreamily.

"I hope they will only have daughters. Or else this pretty girl will bury several sons before you, angel, buy yourself a new coat", Crowley answered gloomily.

Aziraphale made a dismissive gesture and laid on his back. The setting sun made his pale skin red. Crowley laid on his side near him.

"I like Italy", Aziraphale said.

"Me too. I liked it from the very beginning. I liked it best in the days of the Roman Republic"

"Remember Caligula days?"

"All too well, angel. You ran into me in the restaurant"

"Oh yes. We had dinner. Oysters!"

"Dinner, a walk, and a kiss. First kiss. You smelled of oysters"

"You smelled of wine"

"I'll never forget it"

"It was rather lovely"

"Lovely?"

Aziraphale sighed and turned away. Crowley stood up and picked an orange from the tree, then laid back, keeping himself up on his elbows, and started peeling the fruit.

"Verona is not so far away. We may go there, angel, and visit our old rivals' grave"

"What are you even talking about, Crowley?"

"Romeo and Juliette. Star-crossed lovers"

"Stop talking nonsense, Crowley. They were in love"

"So are we, no?"

"No. We are most definitely NOT in love"

"I am. Do you want an orange, angel? Even I can't resist this temptation"

The smell of fruit made Aziraphale rise oh his elbows as well. He looked at Crowley with pleading, and Crowley, sighing with pleasure and smiling, put a small piece of orange into the angel's mouth. Aziraphale moaned in pleasure, as the bright and sweet-scenting juice dropped from his lips. Before it ran to his chin, Crowley managed to lean closer and kiss Aziraphale's lip right where the drop was. Aziraphale kissed him back lightly, smiling.

"I think I need to do it every time, else your pretty shirt will be ruined. Do you mind, angel?"

Aziraphale smiled with a cunning, not at all angelic smile.

"No, I don't. Go on, Crowley, there is still some orange left".

After the orange was gone, they were not done with kissing for quite some time. Angel's skin was hot and a little wet under Crowley's touch, as he knew Aziraphale didn't take the heat very well. They were both waiting for the night to finally breathe in cool air. Yet somehow, they spent all their nights in Crowley's room, and there was nothing cool about those nights, even the air they breathed was hot. Only Aziraphale didn't seem to mind that kind of heat.

Finally, Crowley pulled away.

"Do you know I can sing?", Crowley asked playfully, his lips still red from the kiss. "Let me serenade you. You'll know my feelings are true and go with me to Verona"

"No, I don't know that", Aziraphale said with a half-polite and half-smug smile. "I might go to Verona, but don't ask me to believe in such nonsense as a demon in love"

"That demon", Crowley said, his fingers caressing dreamy Aziraphale's jawline, "made you moan and cry yesterday. And by cry, I mean shedding actual tears"

"Obviously you're good at this kind of thing, as a demon"  
"I was a virgin before you"

"Of course, Crowley. A virgin demon. Who was sent to tempt Caligula himself..."

"You know exactly how it works. We mess with people's heads. You know perfectly well I never kissed before you never did anything else. You're an angel, you would've sensed a lie"

"And I do, this very moment"

"Liar. You know you'll have to admit you tempted me, angel, not the other way around. Right after Bastille". Crowley leaned closer, with a smile. "You put poor besotted Crowley into his misery by making him do those outrageous sweet things"

Angel smirked.

"Poor Crowley seemed happy enough"

"He was. He is. The only thing that makes him unhappy is being accused of lying when he's being his most true self... So, what about the song?"

"Fine. But only if I like it"

Aziraphale stood up and leaned against the tree. The sun was already gone and the beautiful starry sky was beginning to darken.

Crowley went on one knee.

"Oh, please, Crowley...", Aziraphale started, sounding annoyed. "I thought you were serious..."

"I am", Crowley said, taking his glasses off. His eyes were glowing in the dark. "I said I'm in love, I meant it. Now listen"

And, to the angel's surprise, Crowley started singing really good, in a very good Sicilian.

Brucia la luna n'cielu   
E ju bruciu d'amuri   
Focu ca si consuma   
Comu lu me cori   
  
L'anima chianci   
Addulurata   
Non si da paci   
Ma cchi mala nuttata   
  
Lu tempu passa   
Ma non agghiorna   
Non c'e mai suli   
S'idda non torna   
  
Brucia la terra mia   
E abbrucia lu me cori   
Cchi siti d'acqua idda   
E ju siti d'amuri   
  
Acu la cantu   
La me canzuni   
Si no c'e nuddu   
Ca s'a affacia   
A lu barcuni   
  
Brucia la luna n'cielu   
E ju bruciu d'amuri   
Focu ca si consuma   
Comu lu me cori

_(The moon is glowing in the sky and I am burning with love_

_A fire that consumes itself as does my heart_

_My spirit cries out so grieviously_

_There is no peace on such a woeful night_

_My world is on fire, and my heart is ablaze_

_She thirsts for water, and I thirst for love_

_To whom will I sing this, my song_

_If there is no one who will appear on the balcony?_

_The time goes on but there is no dawn_

_The sun shines no more because she does not come back_

_The time goes on but there is no dawn_

_The sun shines no more because she does not come back_

_My world is on fire, and my heart is ablaze_

_She thirsts for water, and I thirst for love_

_To whom will I sing this, my song_

_If there is no one who will appear?_

_The moon is glowing in the sky and I am burning with love)_

When Crowley finished, he took Aziraphale's hand and kissed it gently. The angel was silent. His face looked silver in the moonlight, his features calm. Still, he looked somewhat stunned.

"Did you like it?", Crowley said, standing up. He leaned closer to the angel and put his hand on Aziraphale's cheek.

"I'm impressed", Aziraphale managed to say. "I think Verona is a nice idea. About tonight, though..."

He didn't finish, as Crowley interrupted him with a fierce kiss, pinning him to the tree. Aziraphale answered with enthusiasm, his nails digging in Crowley's back underneath his shirt.

"Tonight you come to me, angelo mio. For the ground is burning"

Epilogue: 1870

Aziraphale enjoyed the company of his new fellows from the gentlemen's club really well. It seemed so ridiculous now, that he spent the entire year after his fight with Crowley not going to any parties or meeting new friends. He was so happy now, finally free from all the memories of the demon.

"I'm so glad I started anew", he thought gladly, as he watched his dear friend sir Thomas Grant play on the piano.

"Tom, wait", he heard Terry Miller's voice interrupting the music. "You haven't played the Italian one you've been telling us about for ages"

"What Italian one?", Aziraphale asked with a happy grin. Everything Italian sounded good those days - pasta, pizza, deserts, opera, literature, songs.

"You'll hear, Fell. You'll like it. Go on, Tom"

And sir Thomas started playing and singing the song Aziraphale has long forgotten. 

_ Brucia la luna n'cielu _   
_ E ju bruciu d'amuri _   
_ Focu ca si consuma _   
_ Comu lu me cori _

And then it all came back to him, all at once.

Sicilian night, the scent of orange tree. Sweet orange taste on his lips, with Crowley's kiss, his fervent red lips and messy red hair, his hot fingers caressing him, his hiss in his ear: "angelo mio", like he used to say... His golden eyes gleaming in the dark, his voice, so low and soft and almost loving, his teeth on his neck, his skin on his skin - he remembered too much, too suddenly, until...

"Wait, Fell! Buddy, where are you going?"  


"I'm sorry, I have to go NOW"


End file.
